


Stay with me.

by Rogue1987



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rare Pairings, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 03:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3194105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogue1987/pseuds/Rogue1987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santi gets sick when the team just landed in Turkey. </p><p>Olivier decides to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay with me.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first Arsenal story that I write, and it's totally my own imagination.  
> I just really like these two together and couldn't resist making a fic about them. 
> 
> I have no clue if it will be well received but I hope you guys will like it.  
> Note that English is not my native tongue.

_Turkey._

 

''Santi will you _please_ come with me to our room! You look paler then a ghost!'' Olivier begged when he saw his small Spanish teammate tremble in his chair.  
They were sitting in the lobby of the team hotel in Turkey, and the rest of their teammates had scurried of to their rooms, but Santi was too ill to move upstairs.

''I'm fine,'' Santi huffed, obviously offended by the suggestion and Olivier rolled his eyes.  
The small Spaniard had always been stubborn as hell, he knew that better then anyone, but Santi was _really_ sick.

He was shaking with fever and Olivier worried over him, which was nothing new really. He always worried over Santi, always made sure that the older man was happy and content.

Santi was their treasure, their little magician, the man who could brighten up everyone's day with a simple chuckle and a smile that could persuade anyone to do anything for him.

And he was special to Olivier. Really special.

Olivier was a guy who everyone always talked about.

They talked about his infamous beauty, how he had cheated on his wife, how gorgeous his daughter was, how he had _definitely_ kissed Debuchy on his lips instead of the cheeks. In other words: they gossiped about him.

In the opinion of the public, Olivier had it all: a beautiful wife and child, a gorgeous face and body, and many friends who loved him.  
The only thing he didn't have though was Santi's love.

And deep down, he knew that he was never going to get that.  
Olivier hated himself for loving Santi so much, for longing so secretively for a guy who he could never have.

Why did he always had to fall for the people who didn't want him?

He could have had Debuchy in the blink of an eye, or any other man or woman on the planet, but no he had to fall for that _stupid_ small Spaniard with that infectious smile.

Olivier knew that it was hopeless but that didn't stop him from looking after Santi, and from rooming with him whenever they went abroad with the team.

He put his hands in his sides and gazed at Santi with an angry look in his blue eyes.  
''Santi you're always fine! Just cut it out and come with me to our room, you need to rest! Just let me take care of you!'' he snapped and Santi's eyes narrowed.

''I know you pity me, and Per probably told you to look after me, but you don't need to do that for him. I'm letting you off the hook,''

''He didn't tell me to look after you, I want to make sure that you're okay. You're not a charity case my friend,'' he mumbled and Santi relaxed a bit. 

Santi wasn't usually a very proud guy, but when he was feeling sick he behaved like one. He refused to acknowledge his illness and just kept going until he dropped down to the floor.

He wasn't a typical man like that, most guys would whine like children when they were sick but Santi wasn't like most guys. He was special. 

''I should certainly hope not,''  
''Come on, I'll get you to our room,'' Olivier murmured and he wrapped his arms around Santi's quivering body and tugged him to his feet.

''You're a lousy friend you know,'' Santi mumbled when they stepped into the elevator and Olivier winched at the hurtful comment.  
''Thank you so much,'' he snorted.

''I don't mean it like that, I just mean that if you care about me at all, you don't help me up. You let me deal with my own sickness alone,'' Santi growled.  
Olivier rolled his eyes again and prayed for patience.

 _Damn that stupid, stubborn Spanish dwarf, he thought. Why can't he ever let me in!_  
''You're pride will be your downfall someday you know,'' he mused and Santi muffled a cough and grinned.

''I've heard that before yes,''

''It's true you know, _you have_ to let other people in sometimes. I'm not out to make you look smaller then you already are. I want to help you because I care about you!''

''I know that, it's just not easy for me to accept help,'' Santi coughed and he placed his head against Olivier's muscled shoulder.  
Olivier tightened his grip around Santi's shoulders and pulled his small body closer to his own.

''I know that, trust me I do. But you _need_ to let me help you, and I want to do that because I want to.

Not because I pity you or because I think you're weak.  
You are the strongest, most resilient guy I know. I could never make you look smaller or weak,'' Olivier mused and he pressed a kiss to Santi's sweaty temple.

He could taste the salty flavor of the sweat and he swallowed hard.  
Did he cross a line with his best friend?

He wasn't really sure how Santi was going to react to his kiss, but when he heard him hum happily he figured it was all right.

''Save those kisses for Debuchy, I'm not worth them,'' Santi coughed, his English failing him like it always did and Olivier groaned.  
''I don't _want_ to kiss him, like I've told you and the rest of the world before: I kissed him on the cheek!''

''Si claro,'' Santi mumbled and Olivier frowned.  
''You know that I don't know what that means!''

''It means: yes sure,''  
Olivier swore under his breath and sighed deep.

Why couldn't Santi ever believe him?

What the rest of the world thought about him and Debuchy didn't matter to him, but Santi's opinion did.  
The elevator pinged and they had arrived at the tenth floor.

''Come on, we're almost there,'' Olivier grumbled, and he dragged Santi to room 1028 and opened the door with their keycard.  
''All right _grandpa_ come on in,'' he teased and Santi nudged his rips playful but said nothing.

That was a bad sign, Olivier reasoned. Santi usually always found a way to mock him back or to joke around.  
Now he barely responded to his teasing.

He helped Santi into their room and saw his friend tumble to his bed and close his eyes.  
''Do you want me to get you some tea? I can get room-service,'' he offered and Santi nodded slowly.

 _''Si gracias,''_ was the short answer he got.  
So he dialed to the reception and ordered a nice big pot of tea and some crackers.

It arrived fifteen minutes later, that Olivier had spent unpacking his suitcase as well as Santi's.  
He had put Santi's toiletries in the bathroom, and had helped him change into his pajama's before tucking him in under the thick blankets.

He opened the door and accepted the food and tea and shut the door.  
He carried the tray to Santi's bed and sat down on the soft blankets.

''Here I have some tea for you,'' he said gently and he poured some of the Turkish tea in Santi's cup, cautiously blowing it to make sure it wasn't too hot before he handed it over to the Spaniard.

Santi sat up in his bed, groaning loud and accepted the cup but he spilled some of the hot liquid on his bed sheets.  
''Oh crap,'' he mumbled, blushing a bit thanks to his own clumpsiness.

''It's okay, I'll clean it up,'' Olivier soothed and he went to the bathroom and dried the sheet with one of the white towels.  
''Gracias amigo,'' Santi said, shooting him a wink and Olivier suppressed a blush.

''You're welcome, now eat some crackers,'' he said looking strict when Santi had drunk some of the tea.  
''Yes boss,'' Santi chuckled and he muffled his head in his hand and coughed a few times, looking like he was going to choke to death.

Olivier was terrified that he would and he wrapped his arms around Santi and patted his back, trying to get him to stop coughing.  
''Shh I got you, it's okay, I will take care of you,''

''Oli?'' a small muffle voice asked.  
''Yes,''

''You can let me go now,''  
Olivier released Santi with a shock and quickly turned to his phone and pretended to be called by someone.

''Yes hello? Ah yes Per he's doing fine,'' he lied and he went into the bathroom with his pretend phone call and shut the door and put his phone away quickly.  
He was so pathetic.

When he found the courage to go back to the bedroom, he saw that Santi had curled to his side in the kingsize bed and was shivering hard.  
 _''Santi?''_ he asked, knowing how worried he was sounding.

''I'm so cold, do you know if they have any other blankets?''  
''Let me go check,''

Olivier checked all the closets and found exactly one woolen blanket and he placed it over his sick friend and tugged it in around him.  
His strong arms came over Santi's side's and just when he wanted to pull away from the bed, his small friend grabbed his arms.

''Wait, please don't go yet-I'm too cold,'' Santi begged and Olivier heard his voice break and swallowed hard to prevent himself from crying.

''I won't go, don't worry. I told you before: I'll take care of you, if you will let me,'' Olivier vowed and Santi turned around and gazed in the blue eyes, searching for answers.

''But why would you? Did Per put you up to it? I knew he would!''  
''He did not put me up to this!''

''Why are you doing this then?''  
 _''Because I want to do it!''_

''Now that is just crazy! I don't understand why you keep rooming with me lately, while you could be with Debuchy, the guy you really love, or with someone else you want to be with. Why spend time with me? I'm useless to you,''

Olivier took a deep breath and cupped Santi's feverish face with his hands.

''How many more times do I have to tell you that I don't want to be with Debuchy! I want to be with you! You absolute dimwit! _I love you okay!''_ he shouted and Santi's dark eyes went huge and he chuckled loud before bursting out into a long coughing spree.

''Now that's just nuts Oli, why would a guy like you even fall for a guy like me! I'm too old for you and too ugly okay! So stop talking crazy shit and just go back to being the Giroud that I know!

You know the ridiculously handsome guy who could have anyone in the world!  
No guy like that would ever go for a guy like me!!! Not if they can have someone like Debuchy!'' Santi snapped back and Olivier went pale.

''Don't ever talk about yourself like that to me! It hurts me Santi! Because you could not be more wrong!''  
''About what?'' Santi huffed, sounding insecure and scared.

 _ **''About everything!!!** _ I do love you! And trust me: I really wish I didn't but I can't help it!

When I wake up you are the first thing that I think about and when I go to bed I dream about you. Do you think I like feeling like this? Knowing that I had to fall for the one guy who would never love me back!'' he said and tears were stinging in his blue eyes and Santi took his hands in his own and kissed his cheek.

''Is that really true Oli?'' he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the French man's hands.  
''Do you think I would lie about something like this?''

''No you would never lie to me, but this seems almost too impossible for me to believe,''

''I know and it doesn't do much for you since you don't love me back but I just had to tell you. I'm sorry!  
I really hope I didn't ruin our friendship, because that would break my heart,''

''Shut up silly. Of course I love you back. I've been in love with you from the first time I saw you.  
But I didn't think that there was any hope for me, seeing as how you are you and I am me. And I love you, no matter what.  
I just really hope you don't kiss Debuchy again, because I get really jealous, specially now that I know about this,'' he joked and Olivier tugged him closer and pressed a kiss to Santi's temple.

''First of all: _I kissed him on the cheek!_ And second of all: why in god's name would I kiss him if I could kiss you?''  
''Well you can't kiss me now, I'll get you sick,'' Santi said, sounding disappointed about that and Olivier grinned.

''It's okay _love_ , we'll kiss when you get better. I'm a patient man. For now I'll settle for cuddling with you all night long,''  
Santi blushed heavily and Olivier chuckled. ''What is it?'' he asked.

''You called me love,'' Santi replied, and Olivier pulled him deeper into his arms and kissed his forehead gentle.  
''Well you are my love aren't you?'' he asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

Santi's smile deepened as he looked him in the eye.  
''Yes I am,'' he vowed and Olivier wrapped the small Spaniard away in his arms and sighed.

Santi was finally his.  
He had never thought he would be so lucky to have such an amazing man.

The guy who held the key to all the secrets of his heart.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you guys think! <3


End file.
